Evanescent Temptation
by EvanescentOrchid
Summary: Gemma becomes a type of immortal, then, after years of solitude and still not fitting in, she meets the lovely pale creatures that haunted her dreams and her visions. This is a A Great and Terrible Bauty/Twilight fanfic. Enjoy! Rated M for the future...
1. Prologue: Letters

**Hey everyone! This is my first fanfic and it takes place just after Libba Brays _The Sweet Far Thing._ It has been on my mind for a while and I just had to write it. I will be merged with Twilight but later on, be patient! And as a reminder; I do not own the characters!! Not any of them yet at least!!**

**Love ya all!**

**OrChick**

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**Gemma POV  


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March 1897

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Dearest Fee,

It has only been a year since I set foot in America. Fortunately I have not had any visions since that unfortunate day we fought the Winterland's creatures, nor have I brought myself to visit the realms since I left Spence.

I am terribly afraid of entering the realms; the pain of losing Kartik is great and has not vanished no matter how hard I wish otherwise. My emotions might overcome me and I am not ready to visit the places where I spent my last blissful moments. It is so hard Fee, to lose the one you love the most and will ever truly love. I know you have felt the same way and therefore understand me. Contrary to myself, I hope you have found someone to love and that you are not living with the ghosts of the past as I am. I do not know why I do it or how, but I have not been able to see anyone as a man, much less a husband or lover.

I have met many men, but none are really fond or deserving of my love. They dislike my love of learning, my only passion and reason for living. American men have turned out to be just as shallow as the English, with a different accent. Men ridicule me for my English birth, my unruly red hair or because I am here alone. I have not made friends for they think me very different from them with my English accent. I shall try to lose it but it might take time.

So as you can tell, I have been leading a life of emptiness and solitude. I am attending Elmira Female College in Elmira, New York, which is a school where a group of kind men are fighting for the equality of females. Can you believe that Fee? There are men fighting to give women equal education as men have. It is a very binding place I should say, much worse than Spence. Our day begins at five in the morning and ends exactly at nive-fortyfive. We must always have a chaperone accompany us out of to town. The school is made up of three buildings, the main house an observatory where we can see beyond the skies and a chapel.

I send you my love and affection Felicity and hope you are doing better than I am.

Love Always

Gemma

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April 1897

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Dear Fee,

I have to admit that sometimes that sometimes I feel like giving up. Like going back to Grandmama and telling her she was right, like telling Papa I failed him and Tom he should have married me off to Simon. But then I remember _him_ and I remember why much he believed in me. I remember he gave his life so I could make the future mine. How he accepted me as I am, volatile temperament and stubbornness, and that is all it takes to make my doubts disappear. That is the time I study harder, I pay more attention to my duties and none to the snickers that follow wherever I go.

I hope you are enjoying your freedom. And remember sweet Fee, tell me when I will be able to purchase a portrait of my dearest friend.

Love Always,

Gemma

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June 1897

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Fee, I do not know what is happening to me. My visions are different from before. It is as if the magic is changing once again. I do not know what is occurring to me but it is horrid and painful. I thought I had left England with all of its magic and visions; I had come to believe it was her and not me who held the magic. I was so terribly wrong. I shall endure the torment of my visions even in this new land. So it is me after all the one who holds the magic, not the earth.

In every single one of my visions I feel an immense pain on my neck that floods my body. This pain is like no other as it burns my insides. I hear a beautiful voice that is as smooth as velvet and sweeter than honey beckoning me to come forward; to give myself to him. I smell his sweet intoxicating breath that falls on my face as he holds me tight and tells me this will end too soon. Then, the pain stops and I feel sharper, my senses heightened; I feel more in control. The most frightening part of all is when I open my eyes and stare at my reflection in a mirror. Every time I do so, I see myself even more beautiful than before, more so than Pip, pale as a sheet with eyes that shine like rubies and perfect red curls. Yes Fee, my eyes are red, bright crimson like blood.

But this beauty is unearthly; there is no imperfection in that face, absolutely nothing amiss. It does not even seem human.

I have no idea what this all implies if it does at all. Even though sometimes I find myself in the depths of a forest, or in the dark alleys of a city or some other desolate place, the pain is the same and my reflection on the mirror only looks even more perfect; pale, without a freckle in sight, beautiful perfect curls and eyes of blood.

This frightens me ever so much. Especially since I do not know what to make of it. Also the vivacity of the experience; like I was actually there while it happened is frightful. I so wish I would all go away or have you close by to ease my pain.

I hope I have not frightened you. This may just as well be another of my musings.

Take care,

Gemma

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November 1897

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Sweetest Fee,

You will not believe who has come to keep me company. No I suppose you will never tell. It is none other than Mr. Fowlson, Miss McCleethy's lover. He has come to be my guardian and my consort, but to society he is my "brother".

After Miss McCleethy's death, he abandoned the Rakshana and joined me. He is under not under my service but he believes rather strongly that his Sahira would have wanted him to protect me and I shall not refuse his aid.

We had a queer relation in the beginning for he was supposed to be my brother and I held no affection for him; I only felt for his loss. But everything changed as I taught him how to speak and act like a proper gentleman. During that period I have realized that he was much like Kartik was at the beginning of our relationship. His hardened tone and harsh demeanor was due to the Rakshana and not his person. Underneath it all, I have found the man that is capable of loving and whom Miss McCleethy so dearly loved. We have bonder over our loses and have become like siblings if not more.

Gemma

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September 1912

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My Dear Fee,

I am afraid something is terribly wrong with me. It has been almost fifteen years since I left Spence and my body has not changed in the least. I look exactly as I did the day I left Spence, I am still a girl of seventeen and not the woman I should be. Fee, I am terribly scared, what if the realms have done this to me? What if I stay this bloody age forever! I have disguised myself to make myself seem older but people are seeing thorough.

I shall write to you in a month's time at the least. People are getting suspicious of my unaging form.

Love

Gemma

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January 1916

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My Dearest Felicity,

I cannot end my life. You probably believe that not being able to age is a miracle but it is a terrible curse. I cannot stay long in one place. I have no idea as to how this has come to be. I do not age, I cannot die. You would be surprised if I told you how many times I have tried to commit suicide and have failed. The magic heals my body almost instantaneously. Not even a dagger through my veins could spill enough blood to rid me of my life. Fowlson became extremely worried and keeps watch over me like my mother would watch my fevers in India.

Someday I will be alone Fee, yes Fee, I will soon have no one. Papa died years ago and Grandmama a few years before. How long has it been? I am supposed to be a grown woman or thirty-six or so. But I am this girl on the outside still. I should be getting older, closer to death every bloody day! Getting ready to join Kartik on the other side of the river, to meet Papa and Mother. But no. I am still conserving the youth and beauty that should be withering by now.

Now I shall never be with my love, my Kartik. You have no idea of how much luckier you are Fee. At least you will be able to see dear Pip someday. All of my hopes have just been vanished. I still see my love in my dreams, I do not know if he has learned of my immortality. If he knows that I will not be able to join him in the afterlife that I am cursed to live a life of emptiness and solitude.

I should not live, but I do and somehow it is unbearable.

Gemma

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**This is my first chapter and I hope a lot of you liked it. Constructive criticism is welcomed and appreciated. Just as a not I would like to point out that none of the Twilight characters will appear untill the next chapter. **

**thanx all!!**

**OrChick,3**


	2. My Fire Angel

**Thanks to everyone who has been reading my story! I am sorry for not uploading sooner, I have soo much homework that it gets hectic!I promise to upload at least once a week :) And remember, I am not either Stephenie Meyer nor Libba Bray, and I do not wish I was because then I would have to take that hideous grammar class in order to major in English ;) Please review if you like this story/chapter it is much appreciated, even if you tell me it sucks. Just tell me why so I can make it better next time!!**

**Luv and pice**

**Orchick**

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**May 1906**

**Edward Mason's POV**

Today is mother's day. Father says I am a man now. I am five years old, very close to six and now I must prove to father that I am no boy anymore. I have awakened before sunrise to fetch mother my own gift. Father has always gotten a gift for both of us but this year it shall be different. _Because I am a man_. Those words bring a tingle to my stomach and make me walk straighter; my gait flooded with pride.

As I walk through the streets of a dark Chicago, I notice I have taken a wrong turn and instead of ending at Mrs. Patricks beautiful fragrant garden, where I planned to pick flowers for my mother, now I have entered an alley that is filled with eerily cast shadows by the sun's tender rays. The smell is thick and foul, it smells of urine and something else I believe to be sewer. The stench is unbearable and I try to go back the way I came.

It is useless. I do not know where I am.

"Wot do we 'ave 'ere George?" I hear a voice sneer behind me. I slowly turn around.

"Well, well if it isn't the litt'l Mason boy! Aint I gright Joe?" This voice comes out in a slur and I realize the men are drunk.

"I am not a boy." I say meekly.

"Wot ah you den? A gurl?" one of the men chuckles as he says it.

"No, I am man." I almost whisper as I search for an escape route.

The men erupt in a mad laughter and one manages to say "who tol' u dat _boy_?" I believe he is George or maybe Joe, I am too frightened to notice.

"Father told me last night before I went to bed…" I whisper. I know I sound like a real child but it does not worry me anymore. Father always said I was cleverer than other's my age and I planned to prove it by escaping now.

"Sure, sure…" he dismisses me with a wave of his hand and then turns to the other man. "'ow much do ya fink we can get outta 'im hu?"

"I dunno, proly enuff for sum drink and a coople oh gurls…"

I stop listening and even as frightened as I am I see an empty street and make a run for it. I hear the men shouting behind me " eeh gotta way!...catch 'im!" but I dare not turn. I run until I can run no more. I reach what seems like a park or the forest, I trip several times over thick roots, until I find a suitable hiding place. I crawl next to a large bush and curl my body tightly. I feel watched but I have to choice but to stay still and pray they will do me no harm.I remember Mother and cry until I fall asleep.

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I am awaked by gentle nudging on my shoulder. I open my half-asleep eyes and blink twice before focusing on a pair of bright green eyes that look like my mother's. "Mother?" I groggily ask.

"I believe not," a voice that sounds nothing like my mother's answers and then laughs sweetly.

I am immediately startled as I am brought back to reality and bolt upright. Scanning my surroundings, I notice I am in the middle of a thick forest and just ahead I see a small cottage bather in sunlight. It is a beautiful thing and it makes me think of the little house Snow White spent the night with the seven dwarfs. I sadly notice there are no flowers just large trees and grass. I then turn to see the source of the voice with the alluring English accent and notice a girl of about seventeen looking at me with a gaze that is both curious and worried. Her hair is the color of sunset with massive curls and her skin is freckled. I notice she is not what society would call a true beauty, but there is something in her eyes, a mystery, that keeps me from looking away. I know it is not proper to look at a lady for so long but I cannot help it.

"Have you seen them? Are they near?" I ask in a panicked whisper.

"No," she answers in a tight voice. "They are gone now." And with that she takes my hand and pulls me up with her. I turn my gaze away from her but can't help sending quick glances her way as she leads me to the dainty cottage.

"Oh my!" she later adds starling me. " I have forgotten my manners, I am Gemma Doyle, and who is this handsome gentleman I have the pleasure to be taking a stroll with?" She speaks so sweetly that it takes me a moment to realize she speaks to me. I then realize she has also called me a gentleman, and handsome. No lady has ever called me any of those before! My chest swells with pride and my posture improves quite a bit. _Because I am a gentleman._

"My name is Edward Anthony Masen, and the pleasure of meeting such a charming lady is mine," I say and bow to her just as Father has taught me. He says all women are to be treated with respect, no matter her status. She does a wonderful curtsy and we keep on walking towards the cottage.

"Hmmm… Edward Mason's son?" she muses. "And pray tell, what is it that the son of a respectable man was doing at such and early hour dear?" she asks.

I do not know what to say, so I tell her the truth. "Today is Mother's Day Miss, and I wanted to pick some flowers and surprise Mother" I whisper, my voice filled with melancholy and disappointment. "Now all I have done is worry her to death." I finish.

"Oh dear, she really must be terribly worried" she tells me as we step inside the tiny house. As she writes something on a piece of paper I take time to look around. It is very tidy with a small fireplace and simple furniture. There is a picture of a couple in wedding dress. The lady looks very much like Miss Doyle, with curly hair and piercing eyes, I wonder if they are the same color also. The man is tall and slender, he has a twinkle in his eye and instead of looking at the camera, he is gazing lovingly at the woman next to him, as if she is the only thing worthy of his gaze. They remind me of Mother and Father and a knot forms on my throat. There is also a picture of a young lady and another of a young man. The young man looks much the man from the wedding picture, with a curl hanging over his eyes. The lady though looks terribly out of place, perhaps one of Miss Doyle's friends. I turn to the opposite wall, there are two photographs that are very different from the others. One is of a pudgy girl, singing in a theatre. But oh my, I have the need to cover my mouth should a loud gasp escape my lips; the other is a girl wearing _trousers_! This is beyond scandalous as I have never before seen a lady in such attire. To add to my astonishment, she is not wearing a corset and her blouse reveals a little beyond her slender neck. I blush and turn away. I notice Miss Doyle watching me quite intently, her eyes dancing, but does not say a word.

"I need to find Father I will be back soon, while you wait, go outside and pick some flowers for your mother from my garden. That ought to cheer her up. Go on, don't you fret," the dancing in her eyes is gone and she is sweet and placid once again.

I do as she says and sure enough there is a garden I had not noticed before. It is in full bloom and all the flowers are perfect and smell delicious. This is better than Mrs. Patrick's garden I figure. I hear Miss Doyle call my name and I run to her, a lush bouquet in hand. We take to walking home and we do not speak a word then. I have no idea how she know the way home but when we get there all I can see is the sight of Mother's worried expression as she runs and wraps her arms around me in a fierce embrace.

It takes a while for her to notice Miss Doyle who stares longingly at us. When mother has calmed down I introduce both ladies.

"Mother, this is Miss Gemma Doyle, she helped me find my way home." I say

"How do you do Mrs. Masen?" The sweet voice greets and she does another wonderful curtsy.

"I thank you Miss Doyle," Mother says with a nod, "for bringing my son back. Mr. Masen was very worried, but unfortunately his duty calls and had to leave. Would you care to come inside?"

"Thank you, you are most kind." Miss Doyle's reply is earnest I can see Mother likes this English girl. "I would love to stay but I have told my father I would not keep away long, please forgive me." She adds.

"That is quite fine my dear, you mustn't keep your father waiting, good day then, and I thank you once more." Mother responds. I feel she has been bewitched by Miss Doyle as I have and she is unhappy to see her leave.

"Good day to you too Mrs. Mason, have a pleasant day" and with that Miss Doyle nods her head and leaves. I watch as her figure disappears and her hair turns into a speck of fire on the horizon.

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April 1915

Years have passed and I still remember Miss Gemma Doyle. Her face has blurred and all I remember are those piercing green eyes, I remember them greener than my own or Mother's…and that curly red hair…and the longing in her eyes as she observed Mother and I embracing. I believe I saw the faint glimmer of tears in those beautiful eyes, but I am not sure.

I have not seen Miss Doyle since that day she found me frightened and lost near her home. I remember how she knew the way to my home without a falter or further instruction. Mother believes she was a foreigner passing by since she had a strong English accent, and that she knew our home because Father is a well known lawyer. Every time I mention Miss Doyle mother gets that longing in her eyes and wonder if she believes Miss Doyle to be the little girl she never had. Both of us have been changed after this girl came into our lives, there is just _something_ in her.

I remember how we met by what I think was pure chance, and also wonder if she was what I felt was watching me, and that garden that seemed to appear by sheer magic. The photograph of the lady in trousers and without a corset still brings a blush to my skin and I still wonder who she is. But I wonder most of all if Miss Gemma Doyle was an angel sent from the heavens to protect me and my heart soars to think I have been so lucky.

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**Just in case you are wondering why five year old Edward sounds so mature in the way he speaks, is because after doing extensive research on the era I found out that children actally spoke like adults even though the couldn't write like them. In some ways children were treated as adults although some kids like Edward who were well off financialy could enjoy some aspects of what we now call childhood.**

**Please review and special thanks to Aora Nehring, I hope not to dissapoint you querida!**

**Orchick  
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	3. Angel on Earth

**Hello everyone!! thanks to all who read this story. I felt like Gemma had to give her version of the events that happened on the last chapter so here she is! Please review if you like the story when you are done reading! And of course, all characters belong to Libba Bray and Stephenie Meyer respectively.  
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**Thanks much!!**

**OrChick  
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Gemma POV

May 1906

As time passes, it gets harder to sleep. Pleasant slumber is nothing but a distant memory that only fades further with each night. My dreams are no longer restful and I awaken with a deep ache in my bones that does not fade.

Eavry night, I dream of Kartik. He is there, across the water, waving, smiling, and loving. I try to reach him but to no avail. The sand is powdery and white; the water a clear blue that calls me in. my feet sink into the sand and I step into the warm water, I walk until the warmth reaches my thighs, my waist, my neck. When I try to swim, I only start thrashing and swallowing water like Pipa did the day she tried to cross. Kartik looks at me, a somber expression on his face, his brow creased and his full lips a straight line. Oh how I would die to be able to kiss those tender lips once more! He moves his head from side to side, "that is not the way Gemma, love" he tells me gently. I give up and crawl back to the sand, wet and somber, my muscles aching.

Tonight I did not get to see the light that swallows up my love. Instead, I was pulled into one of those strange new visions. This vision came in a whirl, so fast and dizzying. First I was walking down a street lined with eerie shadows, it smells of sewer and urine, then there were voices to fast I could barely understand a thing. "what do we have 'ere….well, well, the mason boy…I am not a boy…how much do you fink we can get outa 'im…some women…?" I can feel the fear the boy has, and then I am off running to nowhere.

After this vision I am unable to fall asleep, I reminds me of the day Kartik and I went to the Thames and that one conversation we had that changed our relationship from there on.

"_Such a mournful sound. So lonely." I say hugging my knees to my chest. "Do you ever feel that way?"_

"_Lonely?" Kartik asks._

_I search for words. "Restless. As if you haven't really met yourself yet. As if you'd passed yourself once in the fog and your heart lept-"Ah! There I am! I've been missing that pice!" but it happens too fast, and then that part of you disappears into the fog again. And you spend the rest of your days looking for it."_

_He nods, and I think he's appeasing me. I feel stupid for having said it. It's sentimental and true, and I've revealed a part of me I shouldn't have._

"_Do you know what I think?" Kartik says at last._

"_What?"_

"_Sometimes, I think you can glimpse it in another."_

_And with that, he leans forward as I do. We meet in a kiss that is not borrowed but shared. His hand cups the back of my neck. My hands find his face. I pull him closer. The kiss deepens. The hand at my neck slides down my back, drawing me into his chest._

That was our first real kiss, where both of us had active roles, unlike so many kisses I had stolen with magic and with pretexts. This is really what keeps me roaming through the forest at this hour, my heart heavy with longing. My Kartik, lost somewhere I cannot join him. And I wonder what became of the boy. My visions are usually of the past therefore I wish deeply that he was not harmed.

Suddenly I hear light footsteps thumping quickly somewhere close by. Cautiously I approach the sound and see a young bronze haired boy of about six and I stop by the cover of nearby bushes. I crouch low as not to frighten him for he looks pale even at this time. All of the sudden, he crumples to the ground and begins to sob. I watch, heartbroken, as the sobs subside and the boy falls asleep. I approach the boy cautiously, as silently as I can, and curse the rustling of my skirts as I walk.

He looks so beautiful, so peaceful and full of an innocence I once possessed. His skin is fair and smooth, and his tousled hair a few shades lighter than my own red. Even at this young age you could tell he would be handsome and he would be having many girls swoon at his sight.

I want to wake him and take him home; his mother will be terribly worried when she wakes and finds her son missing. But his sight is that of an angel sleeping on earth and instead I watch his sleep. I briefly wonder if he might be the child of my vision but quickly dismiss it as I have never foreshadowed the future.

As the sun leaves warm kisses on my skin that remind me of Kartik, sigh and nudge the boy awake. He opens his half asleep eyes and blinks twice before focusing his hazy gaze on my face. I notice the eyes are green, not as green as my own but much prettier I believe. "Mother?" he groggily asks.

"I believe not" I answer and give a small laugh. The boy startles and immediately bolts upright. He scans his surroundings and then turns to me. He looks right into my green eyes, eyes that many people think bewitching, and does not look away.

"Have you seen them? Are they near?" he asks in a panicked whisper as he retakes a seat. I suddenly realize he is the boy from my vision this morning and my throat closes in on itself. This is unbelievable it has never happened.

"No" I hear myself answer in a tight voice. "They are gone now." And with that I take his and pull us up and lead him towards my cottage. It is a small thing, not much, but Fowlson and I love it and live comfortably. I cannot stop thinking about how this vision saw the future of this boy or even why. I remember the bit I heard the boy say in my vision "I am not a boy" so I take this opportunity to raise his spirits.

"Oh my! I have forgotten my manners, I am Gemma Doyle, and who is this handsome gentleman I have the pleasure to be taking a stroll with?" I say in my sweetest voice. I notice the boys eyes widen as he registers my words and later his chest swells and his back straightens.

"My name is Edward Anthony Masen, and the pleasure of meeting such a charming lady is mine" he finally responds and bows in a gentlemanly fashion to me and I curtsy. I see the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth and even I manage to feel better myself.

"Hmm..Edward Masen's son," I muse, "and pray tell, what is it that the son of a respectable man was doing at such and early hour dear?" Yes, what is this a boy of his status doing out here alone? It seems he does not know what to say and settles for the truth, what I wanted to hear in the first place.

"Today is Mother's Day Miss, and I wanted to pick some flowers and surprise Mother," his voice is but a pained whisper and I struggle to hear the rest. "Now all I have done is worry her to death" he finishes with a tone of melancholy and disappointment.

"Oh dear, she really must be terribly worried."I take true pity for the boy and wish I had a garden where he could pick flowers from.

When we enter the cottage I turn to write a note for Fowlson and notice Edward looking around the living room, if you could even call it that. He notices Father and Mother's wedding photograph, as well as Tom's and Miss McCleethy's, he makes no questions and I am ever grateful. Next he notices Ann's photograph and when he turns to Felicities, his hand flies to his mouth and his skin is tinged with red. In this photograph Felicity is as scandalous as ever, she is wearing trousers, lacking a corset and her blouse is partly unbuttoned, the shape of her breasts is apparent and it is this that tints Edward's cheeks the most. He catches me looking and I decide to use my magic to create a garden so he does not arrive to his mother's arms empty handed. It has been long since I have used it and I pray it will work and the illusion will hold for enough time.

"I need to find Father I will be back soon, while you wait, go outside and pick some flowers for your mother from my garden. That ought to cheer her up. Go on, don't you fret," I go find Fowlson and ask him for directions to the Masen's home and give Edward enough time to gather a decent bouquet. Through my bedroom window I watch his joy as he gathers flowers, I go outside and call to him, and soon we are on our way to his home.

The house is quite grandiose and reminds in a way of my home in England. The worried mother runs to her son and gathers him in a tight embrace. It takes them a while to notice me and I stare longingly at them. I wish I had enjoyed the moments like those with Mother that I had told her I loved her much more often, to hold her in my arms and not let go.

Edward introduces me to his mother and I manage a decent reply. She asks me to come inside but she looks too much like my mother; green eyes and fiery hair, it hurts to stay, instead I tell her my father is waiting for me and leave. I do not turn to see if they are looking after me I just walk with no direction dead ahead.

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June 1955

It was that day I noticed the magic had really changed inside me, it no longer cast illusions but true physical forms. That garden I created for Edward so long ago grew and flourished while Fowlson and I cared for it. About five years later we moved out of Chicago and into the wilderness, Fowlson and I had to figure out this magic and we had to be away from the masses of people. I still wonder what has happened to Edward, if he remembers me, if the memory of Felicity still brings a blush to his cheek. I wonder if I will ever see him again, probably not since I still look like I did the day I met him.

This is what I hate the most of my life, it is impossible for me to have any friends, and now Fowlson is growing old, I am afraid I will have no more company. I fear the life of solitude I know will soon find me. I know not what my reason for living will be then.

I still have not entered the realms, the temptation is great and it grows with each passing day but my fear is even greater and does not allow me inside. I cannot even make the door of light appear. I sometimes wonder if the ability to enter the realms has left me once again. Just that this time the will be no secret door to let me through, the Order has not ever been in America; I am the first. This land is virgin to my powers and all my magic. I pray for the day this misery ends and I can cross to the other world.

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**I am still thinking what i am going to write next. I know what i want to happen I just need to get my thoughts in order so the next chapter may take longer to post but i promise it will be better if you guys would REVIEW? please??? I review your stories when I read them...its only fair...  
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**Luv**

**OrChick  
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	4. Sinister

**Hey everyone, sorry for not uploading for so long but here it is!! Thank you to those who have subscribed to this story. You are the ones who keep this story on my mind. I have no beta so if there is something wrong and you notice it in my work please let me know! I write better than SM (lol! j/k) so I am not her, Libba...well, lets just say I live on the other side of the country...**

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The woods have taken a sinister feel; there is something about them that make me very uncomfortable. I have come back to Chicago, Fowlson has taken ill and there is supposed to be a very successful doctor that we are to see tomorrow. The influenza has been raging in the United States and it has no mercy, it kills many of the people it possess not even salvaging the children. Unfortunately Fowlson has caught it an I desperately want to save his life, I do not want to bear another loss. Without his company I will truly be alone. He has been my sole companion all these years, the only one who knows my terrible secret. The only one who is allowed to know, apart from Felicity that is.

But Fee has her own life and our only contacts is through letters and photographs. Her beauty is slowly leaving her, her skin withering. She still models, but not with the frequency of her younger days. She has the kind of beauty that even with the faint creases that are beginning to form on her flesh, she is still an attractive woman. She holds the same attraction her mother did. While she has not married, and I trully doubt she ever will; she has found a new partner, Anabelle, with whom she is very content. I fell for my friend as she will never express her love for Anabelle openly. Society would rather accept a girl loving an Indian man than another woman. That love shall always be kept a secret, always behind closed doors.

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During the time I left Chicago; after that astonishing day I found that my magic no longer cast illusions but rather entities, Fowlson and I left in great hurry. I was terribly frightened and awed. I still know not what to make of it. Part of me wants to rejoice and still another wants to sullen at this new power. I decided to be grateful after much pondering, and help all the lives I could here on earth. I remembered how Kartik believed I could change the world that day at the Thames, and now it was possible.

I gave coins to the children, built fires in homes and helped men who were desperate to take a plate of food to their spouses and hungry children. I took pity on them all, and even though I did help, I still felt worthless as I remembered that fires ran out and I was not able to start them every night. Even though, every time I performed these tasks I felt closer to my old self. Closer to the Gemma who next to Kartik and her friends had believed anything was possible.

Sometimes the magic flared inside me and it caused anger. It truly vexed me when a mocking voice reminded me that even with this new power I still could not heal. People hurt all around me and I could not stop their pain. The only thing I did seem to do was dull he pain. As if I was morphine. Ha! But this is still an illusion, nothing real. The pain is still there, licking their bodies waiting to rise forth once more. That bloody voice reminded that I would never meet my Kartik again, that one day I would be alone, that this body never seemed to want to die.

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I turned and gave Fowlson a sideways glance who now starting coughing violently in his sleep. I touched his burning forehead with my bare hand and saw his mouth covered in blood. His breathing was more labored than before and I was immediately flustered. I left the safely of our tent and ran to the river to fetch the water I prayed would be cold enough to calm his scorching body.

"If there is someone such as God, He should not make his people suffer…" I muttered under my breath as I walked past our horses.

My dear Freya, a slender bay mare who is usually very calm now snorts loudly and paws at the tender grass, her eyes rolling showing mostly white. Akasha, Fowlson's black stallion is acting much the same. I ignore them both even though they send a shrill whinny my way, with my thoughts not straying far from only wishing they do not get loose. Fowlson now occupies my mind. I grab one of their water buckets and rush as fast as I can to the river.

The disturbing feeling I felt earlier overcomes me fear takes over as I feel I am being watched. I stumble and nearly fall into the water. When I turn back towards the dingy tent that has been my home for so long, everything is quiet. All I hear is the heavy breathing of the horses, who eye the tent fearfully and send sharp glances towards the woods. They are so still they only magnify the fear within me.

I try to make out Fowlson's breathing, his coughing, the rattling of his chest but no sound comes. Something that tells me he is still living…

I hear nought.

"I shan't be scared...I shan't be scared…I shan't be scared..." I chant like a mantra, my voice leaving my lips in broken whispers.

I leave the bucket outside the tent and carefully peer inside…

I wanted to scream but no sound escaped my lips. Not even the smallest of whispers. I wanted to look away but my eyes stayed trained on the image that lay before me.

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**Classes have been hard and finals are just around the corner :) so It will be a while for me to upload again...but do not fear! I will be here!!**

**OrChick**


	5. Effortless

**Here is the new chapter! Sorry for keeping all of you waiting but after having 8 teeth pulled (and then fanfiction would not let me upload anything) I am finally able to write again. I own none of the characters except the mysterious man ;)**

**Enjoy!!**

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His throat was ripped and dry. There was no blood escaping the wound. His head was bent at an irregular angle yet the expression on his face showed no fear, no anxiety. It was as if he was murdered so quickly he did not even have time to react. But the lack of blood...it was very queer.

At first I could not react and my corset seemed to tighten its hold and it left me breathless. My head started swimming when I remembered to breathe. I swallowed a breath that left me chocking and gasping for more. My heart hummed in my ears as I took a wavering step away. Everything seemed as if to be from a vision. Everything seemed to slow even my self.

And, as if in a vision, everything turned to a normal speed as I realized this was no vision; Fowlson was still dead. His eyes still unseeing. I felt I might be ill and I quickly covered my lips. I turned and scrambled tripping over my skirts, to where Freya and Akasha were still pawing nervously. Their eyes kept rolling into their heads and their hooves menaced with blows to my body. I fail to recall how I managed to calm those two.

"Still, still sweet Freya," I heard my self sooth more to my self than to the animals, "everything shall be all right." My body was raked with shivers impossible to control. At that moment I remembered Pippa. My dear Pippa who was _afflicted_ and prayed, _dear God, don't let it happen to me._

_Come to us my sweet, don't keep us waiting…_

My head whipped to the sound and quickly remembered the hissing voice of Circe's assassins. Yet this voice was so sweet, so smooth, beckoning. It did not resemble the voices that belonged to the Winterland's creatures. This voice was meant to be welcoming. It begged for me to embrace it.

_Come to us my sweet, you do not want to keep us waiting…_

The voice whose sex I could not discern gained a slight edge to it, and sent a chill down my back.

I didn't even bother throwing a saddle on Freya's back. I untied both horses with a quickness I knew not of until today. With my skirts hiked up to my thighs I mounted Freya in the most unladylike fashion and dug my heels at her sides. I saw a sliver of white move through the bushes and then a young man. I thought him a ghost for he seemed to glide over the earth as he moved. He kept pace next to Freya with unnatural ease even though we traveled at a full gallop.

Something told me this creature was Fowlson's murderer and I urged Freya to her limits. For the first time since I left Spence I prayed for the door of light. " I choose this." I whisper fiercely. I close my eyes and imagine the bright light that radiates from the door. I open my eyes to the sound of a low but fierce growl. Just like in Spence, the light is before however is no door and is readily visible to anyone, even to that who chases me.

The light was only but a few inches before me but it seemed like meters. I caught sight of him for a second and prayed he would not go through also. I felt Freya's resistance and urged her into a jump. As I felt her muscles bunch underneath me I yelled a Akasha, "Akasha! Jump now!" I instructed the stallion who was running close to Freya. He managed to catch up in one mighty stride and at that I let go of Akasha's lead.

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**I hope you enjoyed the chapter, I thank all of those who have added my stories to your faves and so forth.**

**Thanks you!!**

**Luv,**

**OrChick  
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	6. I Want Her

**This was a tough chapter so it might have some flow trouble. I am writing from a different point of view that is not Gemma's or Edward's. It is for you to figure out! (ok, ok, I will confirm at the end.) Have fun!**

**I don't own any of the characters except for Gregory. **

**Oh, he will become a sexy vampire. **

**Very sexy.**

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I sat on my throne, waiting. Waiting for Gregory to bring to me my newest oddity. Those who have seen her say she is very _special. _I, for one do not believe until I see. So naturally I made contact with that pale smooth skin that never fails to amaze me. When I saw through one of the first individual's memories a freckled girl with wild red hair appeared. _What is so special about this girl? _She had her eyes closed and her face serene. She was listening to the forest. I snickered at the gesture. As if she could hear much. I studied her form, she was dressed in a rather old fashioned form. She wore a dirtied dress that could have seen better days and her form was molded into a delicious shape only the soft bodies of humans could accomplish. Her breasts strained against the fabric of her dress, inviting attention. She was not the prettiest but she held something that made her attractive.

I was starting to get bored once again as I waited for her to do something special. Maybe she could open her eyes and reveal sparkling rubies. Or would they be topaz? _Could it be...that this girl is a lonely _vegetarian_? _That would be special indeed, if I could have her for my self and prevent the Cullen coven from growing. My own thoughts started to wander when the girl opened her large eyes to reveal not rubies or topaz, but emeralds. Bright green eyes that proved along with the freckles and blush extending down to her ripe breasts that she had no chance to be a vampire. Her eyes were hypnotizing and full of lust. _Perhaps it was not the forest she was paying attention to. _This indeed was an interesting quality, a human with a gaze that could even entrance a vampire, but I do not believe this is what my friends here think is spectacular.

My mind started to wander back to the Cullens, who occupied my mind night and day as I tried to figure out a way to destroy them and I started to retrieve my hand. Just then I was urged to see deeper into the minds of the dear ones. When I did I just started looking further back faster and faster. These were the memories that piked my interest. I started to smile.

Everyone knows that when children grown into adolescence many changes occur. They grow in height; girls become voluptuous, blah, blah, blah. This girl did nothing. Ten years ago she looked the same as I presume this day. Her figure long and thin, her breasts as ripe as inviting than ever, her eyes still entrancing. Everything exuded the youth and charm found in all young things. _What could she possibly be? Was she truly special?_ As far as I was told she had done nothing extraordinary but keep her youth. Perhaps I had a place for her in my court…

Now, as I wait, I have an eternity planned out for her. I have sent Gregory, a loyal individual I could trust to bring her back unharmed. Once she was in my domain, she would accept a place in my court were she could be my little eye into the human world. Yes, I did have many spies. But this eternal human would give me a freedom none from my guard could ever give. She could walk the world with ease and not worry about being discovered. She could give me valuable information only a human is able to acquire.

I stepped off my seat and started pacing. I watched as Marcus stared at the tapestry that hung on the far side of the room. I failed to understand what he found interesting in it. It has hung on the same place for almost a century. He looked at me with those milky red eyes we all shared and with the same bored expression he turned his head to its previous position. I turned to Caius and he was playing chess, again, by himself. Did he have nothing better to do? I let out an exasperated sigh and smashed my fist into a nearby table. It shattered to splinters and dust.

"When will she get here?!" I said in a tight anxious voice.

"Never," muttered Marcus.

I let out a growl. No one paid no mind. I was a very patient being but this was just too much. They were supposed to arrive yesterday.

Suddenly I smell a different scent enter the hall beyond and footsteps approach the door. They hesitate when thy stop before the door. The smell belongs to Gregory but he is alone.

_What happened? Where is the girl?_

"Where is the girl?" I ask immediately as the door opens. My voice is edged in steel.

The boy is laden with fright. His eyes will not meet mine and I immediately know he has failed.

"She got away," he whispered.

I was infuriated. How could a human escape from a vampire? She was sixteen, weighed no more one than the average girl and was equally as strong. I closed my eyes and calmed my self. Anger could not give me answers.

"Come here," I barked.

He came at once and I took hold of his wrist.

Images flashed before my eyes.

The girl and an old sick man.

A tent.

The man sucked dry. I feel the venom pool in my mouth as I feel Gregory's pleasure at the delicious taste.

The girl frozen by the sight of her companion.

Then it hits me, the most beautiful scent I have ever smelt. I see the blood pulsing through her veins as her heart speeds, prepares to run, escape. It makes my mouth water and the venom pool but I do not want it. I want to cherish it, keep it safe. It is an odd reaction and I feel it in Gregory's memories too. We want to protect this girl not feed on her. One interesting reaction indeed.

Horses, two horses and she takes off, he follows easily beside her.

A light.

A portal.

She disappears.

_The girl simply disappears__!_

I am stunned and toss the boy aside. I sit on my throne once more. For once the Cullens do not occupy my memory. This girl is special, very special.

And now I want her even _**more**_.

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**Ok so this was written from Aro's point of view. As you Twilight fans know, he is very greedy and loves to colect _oddities._When he is informed about Gemma he cannot resist but want to have her for himself as she may be very useful as a mediator between humans and vampires. When he finds out she can _disapear _in thin air, he wants her even more. As for why she smells sooo good but the do not want to hurt her, you will just have to keep reading!**

**R&R!**

**Luv,**

**OrChick**


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